The Devil, The Tower and The Hanged Man
by TheDeep
Summary: Strange things have been happening and they've been derailing Mac just as much as childhood memories and the mysterious calls, but nothing could compare to the sickening feeling he met when faced with three particularly strange Tarot cards. A story that is based off one of the episodes leading up to "The Thing About Heroes" with a slightly different version of events...
1. Chapter 1: Derailed

**Hey y'all. This is a drabble of a story largely based off of the episodes leading up to "The Thing About Heroes" and also… kind of inspired by Smuffly's awesome approach to the whole idea with her challenge, "A Piece of the Puzzle." Those two things encouraged me to take a second look in to all of this and the whole freaked out feeling I get when I think of that particular episode and the events leading up to it…**

**And… obviously, if you're reading this… I decided to post it… You all know the disclaimers, blah… blah… blah…. And I also want to note… I didn't know if I'd post this in the first place, hence my little interjected sentence above… Also a little note… I should've watched the episode I'm talking about beforehand, but I didn't so… it's my fault if I got anything wrong. And if anyone could remember what that third card was? I'd be grateful. (You'll see what I mean… promise.)**

**. . . . . . . . . .**

I'd been feeling extremely thrown off my game for some reason or another rather recently. In the back of my mind, I knew exactly why I felt that way and instincts told me there was storm clouds gathered on the horizon, and that I should brace myself for a severe storm even though the weatherman predicted decent weather in the coming days for the city.

What was the icing on the cake for me were the strange events I encountered with Stella on one particular case. I couldn't get that night in Chicago off my mind and honestly, the image of Jimmy pulling the trigger on Bobby Toole flashed through my mind before the strange woman behind the counter grabbed my hand. The nightmares had started again and I found myself waking up earlier and earlier, breathing hard with my heart pounding fast in my chest like I'd been running and screaming at the top of my lungs for what seemed like hours.

I felt my heart jump to my throat and my gaze snapped to her. Her actions brought me to full attention.

She was a fortune teller of sorts, reading the cards she pulled off to me. My gaze fell to the counter and the three cards she laid in front of me. For some reason, I hadn't tried to pull my wrist free of her firm grasp.

The cards lain before me sent my head spinning. I noticed two in particular: the devil and the hanged man.

Numbers and words danced in front of my mind's eyes and I once again felt lightheaded from the image of that damned revolver in the drawer and I clearly made out Jimmy yelling, "Pick it up, Mac! Shoot him, shoot him!"

It took me a few moments to realize Stella had taken a protective hold of my arm and the woman had let go of my wrist. With that realized, I slowly returned my hand to my side and my gaze locked with that of the woman's for a brief moment before I looked back at Stella, who looked alarmed as if she was trying to figure out what the hell had just happened. For me, it was a sickening feeling in the pit of my stomach that told me something bad was indeed setting up to happen with all of this.

Even as I turned to follow Stella to the back, those two cards were staining a permanent image in my mind and I cursed myself for letting this strangeness derail my focus so easily.

More derailed than I ever remembered being, I let Stella conduct much of the questioning as my gaze scanned the room. But I could feel my heart beating wildly in my chest and started to wonder how Stella had seemingly not noticed my uneasiness.

And then I corrected myself. Of course Stella knew. Why else would she take on the questioning without any kind of nod or notice from me? I ranked higher than her, technically speaking, and we both knew it. It's just that we chose to ignore it most of the time and worked together, sometimes me stepping down to her level or her stepping up to mine.

I had started to pay attention to the woman before us and I could've sworn I saw numbers on her eyelids.

In white writing, 333 and 666 if I was seeing correctly. I frowned. This just couldn't get any stranger.

I managed to get my eyes elsewhere before I felt the eyes of both women in the room boring in to me and I barely managed to keep myself from shifting nervously on my feet.

I pulled my phone as if to check something, and I told myself I was checking the time even though I was kind of hoping for a call to save me from this situation. On the other hand… checking the time was actually what I ended up doing anyways,

_3:29 pm._

I grimaced on the inside. Usually the son of a bitch chose the morning hours to call, but that hadn't stopped him from calling in the evenings.

That stained image of the devil and hanged man cards flashed in front of my mind's eye again and I took a deep breath.

"I've gotta check on something. Can I catch up with you later?" I finally asked Stella.

She looked me up and down quickly with a concerned gaze but nodded anyways. "Sure."

"Thanks. I'll make it up to you."

And I stepped out to the front of the building again. The woman behind the counter eyed me as I stepped out the door and I couldn't help but feel like I was sweating bullets.

No sooner had I pulled my keys to my Avalanche – thank God Stella and I had drove separate on this occasion – my phone rang.

I froze on the spot, hand laid against the handle on the door and I could've sworn my blood froze again.

I got in the truck and closed the door before I pulled my phone.

_Unknown Caller_

_333_

And I stopped reading there, my eyes darting to the dashboard clock above the radio. _3:33._

"Right on time," I breathed and I laid my still ringing phone on the passenger seat, steeling my mind as much as I possibly could against the persistent ringing and images flashing before my eyes as I pulled the Avalanche out in to traffic.

I didn't know where I was going, but anywhere far from the lab would suit me just fine at the moment. I needed time, and the storm clouds on the horizon in my mind seemed to get darker the farther I pushed myself in to this stalker's game. It sent chills through my entire body to think of what could possibly be next.

To be honest, I almost didn't want to know the answer to that.


	2. Chapter 2: The Tower's Omen

**I don't know why I didn't think of doing this earlier… but I decided I wanted to add on to this little snippet, and my thanks to Smuffly for telling me the third card was the Tower card! ;) Also as I side note…. Looking up these various Tarot card meanings has been quite the interesting venture! They do say you learn something new every day, don't they? Lol… :P**

**. . . . . . . . .**

I glared at my phone and let out a mix between a growl and what could possibly be called an exasperated sigh.

The glass I had in my hand was still full. I was debating on whether I really needed the damn drink anyways. Honest to God, I had the heritage that would stereo-typically make me a drinker, but I hadn't had a serious drinking night in years.

Personally, I didn't fancy the pounding headaches that accompanied the hangover afterwards.

I felt the muscles of my shoulders lose their tension along with the ones in my neck, my gaze traveling over my phone and holster laid out on the coffee table in front of me, biting at my lip.

I was also debating on calling Stella.

One final defeated sigh and I knocked back the shot quickly, closing my eyes and wondering how big of an idiot I had to be to do something like that and feeling the somewhat familiar feeling of the sharp burn of the alcohol in my throat. This alcohol was _not_ made to be drank like that. Stella would kill me if she caught me doing this.

She at least wouldn't approve of it. I didn't even remember what I'd poured in the glass I'd found somewhere in my apartment. I collapsed with a groan in an only partially organized heap on the chair by the table, rubbing at the back of my neck as I looked over at the bottle standing on the table, now looking rather welcoming if I was honest with myself.

And then a knock on my door broke my train of thought. I flinched as I heard a second knock. For some reason, it sounded like the firing of a revolver to me.

"Pull yourself together, you damn mess," I cursed quietly as I stood and let the glass on the coffee table beside my phone and started for the door.

I was met with concerned emerald-green eyes when I opened the door. I wasn't surprised.

"You alright?" Stella asked. "You really scooted out of there quick."

I sighed and simply stepped back to let her in. She stepped past me as I fumbled for a response.

The first thing she found was my phone. Whether she was ignoring the bottle standing tall on the table she'd walked past or simply hadn't noticed was beyond my caring at this point.

"You got another call?" She spun on her heels and faced me with a mix of concern and what I guessed was this upset mixture of emotions displayed clearly on her face. "Why didn't you call me and tell me?"

"Because I'm a wreck at the moment," I muttered with an almost smartass punch in my voice. I grabbed my glass off the table and poured another with a steady hand. After not drinking in years, I was actually surprised that I could pull it off. I looked over at her, managing to snap myself off of offering her a glass.

Her shoulders slumped and she shook her head as I sank wearily back in to the chair.

"Insomnia?" she finally asked, taking a seat amongst what had become my very chaotic apartment.

"Nightmares," I corrected. Insomnia definitely didn't help though. "And those Tarot cards." I didn't miss the haunted tone of my voice and I grimaced again on the inside, taking my time with this round of the alcohol.

Stella looked at me in concern. "The Tower, the Devil, and the Hanged Man?" she asked.

I nodded, eyes dark. "Nothing good comes of that trio if you ask me," I muttered.

"You remember Suspect X?" Stella asked me.

Of course I remembered. I was derailed so much that I almost snapped my response, "Yeah. Why?"

"We found Suspect X," Stella said. I fixed a confused look on her, not quite getting at why she was bringing that case up again. "We'll find this guy, too, Mac."

I sighed. I should've known I could count on her for trying to lift my spirits.

"I know… I'm just to the point of wondering how deep we're getting in here, Stella," I pointed out. I nodded to my phone. "He knows more about us than we know about him."

Or did he? I frowned and Stella paused, noticing I hadn't listened to what she'd started to say.

I stood, beginning to pace. My mind operated separately from my body as I thought over it all…

The Tarot cards… The nightmares… 333… 333…

Where on Earth had I seen those damned numbers before?

"Mac? Mac?"

Stella's voice finally cut through my train of thought, but I managed to keep ahold of the ideas I'd been getting.

She looked at me in concern as I had stopped pacing, facing her with troubled eyes.

"333," I stated simply.

Now Stella looked confused. "The numbers of the stalker?"

I nodded. "I've seen those numbers somewhere before."

She cocked her head to the right. "Where?"

I shook my head, chewing on my lower lip. "I'm not sure."

Stella was thinking hard just as I was and after a few moments of silence that seemed to stretch several decades to me, I finally shook my head. "Damn it," I breathed.

Stella looked over at me. "You alright?"

I looked back over at her, nodding. "Fine. I'll be fine."  
But in my head I was calling myself a liar. I was lying and I knew it, too.

**. . . . . . . . . . . .**

Later that night, with the dark city as the backdrop through the windows of my office, I leaned back as I studied over the screen of my computer.

The white numbers on the clock that sat diligently near the front of my desk was telling me it was near 11 pm. My shift had long since ended, but I was not here on work business.

Unless you could call my stalker part of my work. I had always faced the stalker as more of my personal problem, that being the reason I had ignored the call from the stalker at the crime scene on that one instance, even though I risked it with Don.

I knew Don had been confused by my actions there. That wasn't my main concern.

Many would say Wikipedia wasn't the most reliable source of information, but it was where I ended up turning to for some explanation on those damned Tarot cards that were still stained clearly in my mind.

I could clearly picture the card of the hanged man in my mind over the other cards.

But what I found most interesting was the Tower was the card right after the Devil in many Tarot card decks that featured the Devil.

I frowned. The Tower was also taken as an ill omen by some, and I was definitely amongst said people.

Just the names "the Devil" and "the Hanged Man" had set me off on edge. This new information on the Tower card only confirmed my instincts: all hell was about to break loose.

I sighed and raked a hand down my face. Waaaay too much of this set off alarm bells in my mind.

_I know this guy… but from where? When?_ That was the thing that troubled me most. My recent nightmares of that night in Chicago had to mean _something_. I felt it in my gut. There just had to be a connection between that night and all of this with my stalker.

I just had to find it. And then I could end this living hell – as I'd come to know it.

With one last long look at the information about the Tower Tarot card, I shut down my computer and gathered my things before I shut the lights off in my office. It was time to at least attempt sleep. And I could only hope that the three Tarot cards and the nightmares would leave me alone for the night, although I wasn't holding my breath on it.


	3. Chapter 3: It Started With Chicago

**Ok… So, I'll be in NYC for the next few days, so I don't know when Chapter Four will appear or any chapters of other stories, but I was lucky enough to have the ideas plotted out for this chapter and get it typed in time for me to post it before heading North! YEAH! Thanks so much for the good reviews and I hope it continues to be a good story for all of you! ;)**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . .**

_The revolver skidded across the floor and I found it at my feet, my eyes wide with terror and still hearing the punches of Bobby Toole landing on Will._

"_Pick it up, Mac! Pick it up! Shoot him, shoot him!"_

_I grabbed the gun with shaky hands, my index finger wrapping lightly around the trigger – a feeling that seemed oddly familiar to my roughly 14 year old self from a place lost in time to me._

_I had the gun aimed at Bobby, but the gun was shaky in my hands. It didn't take long for Jimmy to race across the room and take the gun from my hands._

_I was pushed back as he stepped in front of me, and the recoil from the weapon made Jimmy's hands fly up, kind of like in the old western movies._

_Toole was dead, but Will wasn't looking good at all and I felt warm tears on my cheeks as I raced forward with Jimmy. As I helped Jimmy carry Will out of the room, I vaguely made out the gold numbers on the door through my tear-blurred vision._

_333._

"WILL!" I yelled, sitting bolt upright, breathing hard and feeling sweat all over me. Terrified, I looked around my room, the city lights streaming through the thin gaps in the curtains to create strange shadows that played with my eyes and imagination.

My hand shot for the .40 caliber service weapon on the table as I pulled myself to my feet.

Once again, my hand formed instinctively around the trigger, grip, trigger guard and I racked a round in to the chamber as I paced in an attempt to let off my worked up energy and gather my breathing.

I must have paced the length of the room four or five times before I finally stopped abruptly, planting my back and head against the wall with closed eyes, my gun still gripped in my hand like it was the only thing keeping me alive.

I looked down at the outline of the gun in my hand after a few moments. _All I had to do was pull the trigger…_

I examined my index finger that I had laid against the trigger guard, keeping it off the trigger to avoid shooting the gun off on accident. All I had to do was pull the trigger, even now.

I took a deep, ragged breath my gaze finally found the digital clock on the nightstand as one of my hands massaged and worked at the back of my neck.

The clock said it was early. _Too_ early. I let out another breath as a long sigh, closing my eyes and leaning my head back against the wall again.

It was a few long moments before my eyes flew wide open. "333!" I gasped.

The numbers on the door! Those damned numbers were haunting my nightmares now!

But wait… those numbers had been in every nightmare, even when I was around the age of 32 and in my first years in the NYPD. That had been long before these calls from my unwelcome stalker.

It _all _started with Chicago…

And I flinched, taking a seat on the edge of the bed. Everything seemed to start in Chicago. And why shouldn't it? It was where I was born and raised so of course everything started with Chicago.

It's where I'd met Claire, married her; and it was where that one night had thrown me around and left me scarred: scarred just like the scars from the bombing I'd experienced in the wars overseas when I was a Marine.

I finally felt my grip loosen on my gun and I let it drop to the floor. Thankfully, it wasn't a touchy trigger, and the gun remained silent as it clattered to a stop near the door as I buried my face in my hands.

_Brrrrrrrr…. Brrrrrrrrr…._

I paused, forcing my exhausted self to turn and look at my phone, the screen now lit up as it sat vibrating on my nightstand.

My eyes flashed to the clock. _3:33 AM._

I didn't know what to do as I stared down my phone, almost mystified.

I almost didn't realize that I'd stood up and I shook my head as I walked over and grabbed my phone.

_Unknown Caller_

_333_

It was time.

"Taylor," I answered like normal. I might've been a total mess, but I wasn't quite ready to show it yet.

Dead silence met my words and I stood totally still, waiting… waiting for something – _anything._

_Click!_

And that was the end of the call. I pulled the phone away from my ear and stared at my phone. It was never more than a few seconds – a few seconds of deadly and cursing silence. I set my phone down again, overcome by a strange feeling of calm.

Now I knew something… Something my stalker possibly didn't know I did.

It started in Chicago. And it started with Bobby Toole, Jimmy, Will, and me.

I took one last long look at my phone before I retrieved my gun off the floor of the room. I examined it for a moment, running my fingertips over the grip that I knew so well and didn't recognize or acknowledge most of the time.

I unloaded the filled clip and popped the round out of the chamber and in to the palm of my hand before I laid it all back on the nightstand with one thought,

_Not today. Maybe tomorrow, and maybe never… but not today._

I nodded to myself, finding a new supply of determination. With that, I left my bedroom, my phone and gun along with it, and started for the kitchen, ready to face the new day and get some solid answers on how this all connected back to Chicago.


	4. Chapter 4: Homeward Bound

**I'm not even going to say anything and just let you right in to the chapter… Oh, and by now… almost **_**everything**_** from the show is rather out of order according to this. XD**

**. . . . . . . . . .**

"Hey," Stella greeted.

I looked up from what I was working on, a little startled because I had been so focused. "Hey," I returned the greeting before looking back to the screen in front of me.

She looked over me for a few moments and I knew she was absolutely at a loss for what I was doing. I looked over at her. "DNA from the puzzle matches the DNA from that shirt," I said with a nod to the evidence bag lying on the table.

I began chewing at my lip as she tried to get a grasp on what I was getting at.

"You alright?" I heard her ask finally.

"It started with Chicago, Stella. All of this has to have something to do with Chicago," I told her, looking back over at her. "And it started in London. I already told you Scotland Yard couldn't trace the calls, but I left out something."

_Ouch,_ I thought as I saw her confused look. I was thinking she wasn't going to like the fact that I hadn't told her about this until now…

"My luggage was missing, and when I finally got it back, I found that shirt in there. The combination was 333, Stella."

Stella silently shook her head. By now, I realized just how much I'd bombarded her with in the past five minutes. Whoops…

"Mac… Why the hell didn't you tell us?"

I sighed. _There's_ the reprimand! I guess I deserved it though…

"Back then, I thought it was just some kind of crazy joke… And now… I just didn't want you guys worried so much about my own problems," I said.

"This isn't just your problem, Mac Taylor!" I swore I felt myself tense like I was going to flinch from her words. "This stalker obviously isn't playing, Mac! Give us one good reason to not be worried about you?"

I sighed again, rubbing at my forehead as if I could somehow miraculously make all of this just be a work of our imaginations. "Alright, relax. I don't have one," I murmured. "Fact of the matter is that I just wanted to figure out what the hell I was dealing with. No one else needed to get tangled up in this. I was scared that if this gets as bad as I think it's going to that you guys would get hurt if I brought you too far in to it," I added quietly, my gaze now fixed on my hands.

I felt her watching me now and the silence told me that was _not_ the reaction she was expecting from me. I took a deep breath and looked back up at her. "Well… That's the truth."

She looked like she was struggling for words and she ended up just shaking her head. "Mac… I don't want to see _you_ hurt in this. None of us do."

I sighed and stood, pulling my set of gloves off as she walked over to me. The sense of emotions between us was something I didn't recognize from any time recently.

"I'll be fine," I told her, putting an arm around her shoulders in an attempt to offer her some kind of comfort.

"You have no idea how many times I've heard that from you and haven't believed you," she told me. I didn't miss a partial smile and I managed a small laugh of sorts.

"Yeah… I know," I muttered as she stood back up straight and I returned my arm back to my side. "The only real promise I can make is that I'll do my best."

"That's the only promise any of us can make," she told me with a nod.

I knew fully well that she knew what that promise applied to. My problem was that I didn't feel like I could even make that small of a promise in this situation. It didn't seem like it would help.

But… I had other problems. They didn't know what happened in Chicago, so they honestly had no idea what I was even talking about when I said it started in my hometown. It was time to tell them, and it was better to tell them as a group.

"Do me a favor and get the team in the conference room. I have some serious explaining to do for all of you," I told Stella, looking back to her.

She looked back at me and nodded. "Alright. Give me ten minutes tops and I'll have them all there."

So, ten minutes later, I had all of the people that made up what I considered my team at the table with me in the conference room.

That population included Don and Sid. They worked with me enough that I considered them a definite part of my team. No questions asked.

Stella stood beside me, since she was the better with words in this situation.

"You all know about the 333 stalker by now." I surprised even myself when I started instead of Stella. "But there are a few things I haven't told you guys that I feel you need to know now."

They all stared at me, obviously waiting for me to start. For some reason, this was a highly awkward situation for me. It usually wasn't so strange to be giving case information to these people… but then again… this was letting them a lot further in to my personal life than I really remembered ever doing.

This was letting them in to my past. It was an unknown land to all of them for the most part. Especially when we were talking about when I was in my teens.

Sure, they all knew I was a former Marine and they knew about my father, at least in a general way…

Geesh, I was really sidetracking myself…

"I never told you about how much I knew from Chicago. Considering what evidence we have now on the 333 stalker, I have reason to believe that this has something to do with something that happened when I was teenager."

I caught Don frowning in the back of the room. He wasn't the only one trying to process all of this.

From here on out, I was on my own. Even Stella had taken a step back to join the confused members of the team.

Taking a deep breath, I told them everything.

The fact that Jimmy had shot Bobby Toole, the fact that we had lied to Chicago Police, and the fact that Will, Jimmy and I were the only ones there… at least, that's what I had been believing for all these years.

By the time I was finished telling them that whole story, it was clear that they were shocked and surprised by just how much I hadn't told them.

Even Stella looked a little startled by all of this.

And the only thing I did was nod as if to say, 'Yeah, that's _exactly_ how much I _haven't_ told you.'

Alright, that was almost asking for it there… Thankfully, I worked with people who understood me at a level not many others did. That partially had to do with the fact that I allowed them this close.

There were just some things that made me a bit careful on who I trusted. But that was a story for a different time, and a story they already knew.

"So… the blood on the puzzle pieces matches the blood on the t-shirt?" Adam asked.

"Yeah… but there's no matches in CODIS," I confirmed, nodding.

Don leaned back against the wall, studying me. "You're thinking someone else was there that night when Toole killed Will."

I took a deep breath and nodded. "Yeah. My only problem is that it doesn't make sense… Will and Jimmy had a younger brother, Andy, but Andy wasn't there… at least, we didn't bring him along."

Or… was he? I bit at my lip harder than I intended to, but I didn't even react, standing right where I was – almost rigid as a statue. Was this what I was missing from Chicago?

_Did Andy see what happened? Is he the 333 stalker?_

It all made sense… but… exactly how did I prove this? That's what my next problem would be if it indeed was correct that Andy was there.

I needed to go to Chicago. And I needed to talk to Jimmy. Jimmy was the only one who I could talk to who understood what had happened that night.

I looked over at Stella, who was the only one who had remained entirely silent through my little reveal. "I need you to talk with Sinclair. I'm going to Chicago, whether he likes it or not."


	5. Chapter 5: The Youngest Brother

**To cause trouble in Chicago or to not cause trouble until New York… hmmm, decisions, decisions, decisions…**

**. . . . . . . . . .**

"Mac Taylor. Damn, I never thought I'd be saying that name again."

I smirked a bit as I joined Jimmy. "Hell of a long time since I've seen you, stranger," I said jokingly. Granted, I was here on serious business… but catching up was required either way.

"You look like your old man. How you been, Mac?" Jimmy asked as he turned and we started down the street.

I shrugged. "I've been alright, but…," I paused and sighed, shaking my head, "Recently? Things have been quite crazy."

Jimmy nodded. "I heard you were doing pretty alright for yourself. What you workin'? DA's office or somethin'?"

I managed a partial smile. "Crime Scene Unit," I replied.

Jimmy smiled and nodded. "Very nice, very nice," he said. "On that case, what's the limits of me an' you grabbing a drink or two?"

Why the hell not? "I assume as long as we can still walk and talk straight, we can do it," I told him, flashing a smile.

"Alright then," Jimmy said, returning the smile. "I'm sure we'll be fine."

So, we ended up in a bar, a drink each. I had, however, chosen a quiet corner so we could talk without anyone who shouldn't be listening overhearing us.

"Jimmy…," I started and stopped myself. How the hell was I supposed to tell him I thought this stalker had something to do with what happened that night?

He finished knocking back the remaining alcohol in his bottle before he looked at me. "You alright, Mac? I noticed you were a little anxious to talk about somethin'," he said, looking at me carefully as a waitress walked by and took Jimmy's empty bottle off the table and headed off to get him another.

I sighed and leaned back, shaking my head. "Will." It was more of a hint to get his attention fully. "I need to tell you something and it has to do with that night." I knew the only thing I needed to say to let him know how serious I was being was his brother's name.

Jimmy stopped and examined me even closer this time. "What's this got to do with that night?" he asked.

I pulled my phone from the inside pocket of my jacket and pulled up my recent calls list before I laid the phone on the table between us.

"I believe I have a stalker," I said, pointing him to the numbers I knew so well that appeared throughout the list on my screen. "And I think we both know where we have seen those numbers before."

Jimmy nodded slowly and muttered a quiet thanks to the waitress as she returned with his drink. "Mac… we were the only ones there," he said.

I sighed and waited until the waitress was out of earshot again. "I know… that's what I've been trying to make sense of. I went to London recently and I lost my luggage from the trip. When I got my luggage, that was the combination," I pointed out the numbers again, "And inside was a bloody t-shirt."

Jimmy looked up at me, the recognition in his eyes telling me I didn't have to say who I thought that blood belonged to.

"The blood on that t-shirt matches blood on a puzzle of New York one of my investigators got on the hood of her truck one day," I explained.

Jimmy shook his head. "Are you trying to say I'm responsible?"

"No," I said quickly, shaking my head. "That doesn't fit at all… Someone else was there that night."

"Who?" Jimmy challenged. "Andy?"

I looked up at him, taking a deep breath. "I think he followed us, Jimmy. I think he knows what happened."

Jimmy stared at me in shock. "What the hell's gotten in to you, Mac?"

"Jimmy, please," I said, holding my hands up to try and calm him, "It's the only thing that fits."

Jimmy stood. "You weren't there, Mac. You didn't have to lie to Andy all those years. How the hell can you do this?"

I sighed again, shaking my head. "Sit down, Jimmy. This isn't going to solve anything."

"Damn right it won't," Jimmy snapped.

I looked over at him, trying one more time, "Jimmy, just hear me out, ok?"

Jimmy finally sighed, shoulders slumping in defeat as he pulled out a cigarette and lighted it. He then offered me one.

I let out a stressed sigh and accepted, letting him light it. I leaned back and breathed out, holding the lit cigarette between my fingers as I chewed at my lip. _Stella is going to kick my ass for this._ I couldn't help but think about how she would if she found out.

"I figured you looked stressed enough," Jimmy said by way of explaining his offer.

I nodded and took another draw from the cigarette, shaking my head as I thought about how I hadn't done this in ages. "If it wasn't Andy, then who else knows about it?" I asked.

"Sal," Jimmy offered with a shrug, taking a break from his cigarette to take a drink from his new bottle.

"Why would it be him? He was the one that told us he'd take care of it. He's the reason CPD doesn't know about Toole's death," I pointed out.

Jimmy nodded. "Have you heard from him? Andy?"

I shook my head before I returned to the cigarette Jimmy offered me. "No. Not since we were kids. You?"

Jimmy shook his head. "Nothing at all since all those years ago," he replied.

I nodded. "Then it fits that this stalker is Andy," I said, nodding to my phone which was still on the table between us.

Jimmy nodded. "But why?" he asked.

I shook my head and sighed. "I have no idea. That's what I still need to find out."

Jimmy chewed at his lip for a bit. "What about Will? Could it have anything to do with the fact that Toole killed him?"

I nodded, realizing Jimmy was right. "That's exactly what he thinks," I said.

Jimmy looked over at me with a confused expression. "He thinks what?"

"He holds me responsible for Will's death," I said, standing and pulling my wallet out as I carefully held the cigarette between my teeth. I laid a 20 down on the table. "That should cover it," I said with a nod to the money as I grabbed my phone and returned it to my pocket.

"Mac," Jimmy said, standing and laying a hand on my shoulder. "Where the hell are you going?"

I sighed again, shrugging. "Honestly, I don't know. That's for Andy to decide now, isn't it?"

"If you're going back to New York, I'm coming with you," Jimmy said.

"I won't be able to change your mind?" I asked, already knowing the answer.

"Nope," Jimmy confirmed. "Now, are we going back to New York or what?"


	6. Chapter 6: Out Of Place

**A little overdue? Yes… Now here? Also a yes! XD Now, this chapter is a wee bit different than the others, with the first half being written from Mac's POV and then the last half from Stella's. Just wanted to give you that head's up! ;)**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . .**

I admit, my heart was pounding in my chest as I lead a few members from my team in to this location Stella had given us.

For me, my breathing echoed in my ears as loud as a subway train that was ripping through the station way too fast. My grip tightened around my gun. _Alright, you got my attention, Andy. Let's end this craziness…_

I'd made sure to make Jimmy hang back, as much as I knew he wanted to come along. The less people I involved, the more secure I felt on the idea that less people would be hurt.

We came to a halt at a spacious, and deserted, office area. Neat and clean. Organized. Almost _too organized_. I shook off the chill that raced down my spine and took one hand off my gun, signaling Danny and Don to the righ and Stella towards the center of the office as I stepped left.

There were too many damned doors in this place for my comfort. Danny and Don looked over at me and we locked eyes for a moment before I nodded and we moved in.

I looked around the door first, almost literally over my shoulder. _Nothing._

I turned back in the direction the hall seemed to run before I continued, very aware of the fact that I was alone. It was unsettling in the stretching silence that greeted me from all sides.

By now, I could hear every pump of my heart in my ears, the blood rushing through my veins faster than a jet engine through the sky. It was hard to imagine that those planes flew roughly over 500 or 600 miles an hour…

I couldn't get the exact number in my head at the moment and frankly, that was rather unimportant. What was important was finding out the end game of this crazy chase. The whole thing had driven me to worsened insomnia and a pounding headache that seemed to insist on accompanying me no matter where I was.

They lined this room on all sides. Shelves and shelves and more shelves. I frowned. Exactly what did this guy have planned that required such an elaborate cover? As far as I was concerned, I'd just stepped in to a wine cellar of sorts. The bottles sat neatly organized on the shelves and for a moment, I was tempted to take one and lean back against the wall after popping the cork. I sure's hell felt like I needed that kind of thing.

My eyes narrowed, I stepped sideways, my gun still in front of me. What was strange was the lighting. It threw me off. It gave the feeling that I was on the street level when I knew that deep down, I felt like I was in a cave several hundred miles underground.

I paused for a moment, lowering my gun just slightly to take another look around the room. I frowned as the collar of my dark red shirt rubbed uncomfortably against my neck as I scanned my gaze across the room. For some reason, it felt a little too tight at the moment.

I shook my head, my gun now at my side as I looked down the row of shelves I now stood between. The one on my left was tight against the wall and on my right the shelf was perfectly lined up as if it had been measured down to the last millimeter.

_Strange,_ I noted with a frown. I brought my gun back up again out of instinct and walked down between the shelves, reaching the other wall of the room, my eyes catching a small amount of light.

I laid my hand against the wood, my head cocked to the side to better examine the way it seemed to be laid out. Something seemed out of place… yet I just couldn't quite put my finger on it.

The woodwork was uneven, which was different than the surrounding room. Everything had its place in this room… Except for this. This seemed out of place.

My frown grew as my fingertips found an obvious unevenness between two of the boards. That light had to come from somewhere, right?

"Old habits die hard, huh?"

I felt a grip tighten around my neck, replacing any thoughts I had been working on with an instinct to try and wrench myself free. So much that I barely heard my gun softly clack against the floor as it dropped from my hands.

But I already knew who this was and I struggled to keep my balance in the tight grip, squeezing my eyes shut and finding it increasingly difficult to get a decent breath in to my lungs.

"Just relax. This won't hurt, I promise." I fought harder when the smooth voice calmly gave me the advice in my ear, his breath warm against the side of my face.

"Damn it, Andy!" I growled quietly, struggling to get enough leverage on his arm to make him let go of me.

"What part of 'relax' do you not understand?"

That was a little more of an impatient tone and I felt the prick of a needle on the left side of my neck as I gritted my teeth, fighting to keep ahold of my own reality against the rush of calm that brought with it an unwelcome darkness.

The last thing I remembered was his grip loosening around my neck and then hitting the floor hard as he stepped back.

**. . . . . . . . . . . . . .**

I frowned, not liking what I was finding as I rummaged quickly through Drew's desk. I couldn't believe I'd let him get as close as I did! I had known something was off about him and look where it got us all!

"Clear over here, Stell," Danny said as him and Don walked back in to the main office where I stood.

I frowned and studied the last picture I'd pulled from the file for a moment longer before I looked up, realizing with a jolt that Mac wasn't back with them.

"Mac?" I called, stepping around the desk. "Mac?"

Danny and Don exchanged a confused glance as I stepped over to the still open door where I'd seen Mac head down the hall. I looked left and then right as I pulled my gun before motioning for Danny and Don to come with me.

We set off down the hall to the right at a jog. "Mac!" I yelled, "Mac?"

The room opened up quickly in front of us. The shelves were lined with bottles of wine and I was too concerned about Mac to take too much interest in what an asshole I was finding this Drew to be.

Don and Danny quickly scanned the shelves deeper in the room as I scanned the rest of them along the wall.

"He's not here!" I yelled, feeling worry start to gnaw mercilessly at the pit of my stomach before I noticed a gun on the floor down the aisle from me.

I ran over as Don and Danny jogged up to join me. Carefully sliding my finger around the trigger guard of the firearm, I held it up in front of the three of us to get a better look.

That worry that had been gnawing at my stomach now wrenched painfully at my heart. _I know this gun…_

"That's Mac's service weapon," Don muttered and Danny stepped past me, laying a hand firmly against the woodwork.

Something had obviously caught his eyes and I laid Mac's gun back down on an empty area on the closest shelf before Danny had kicked in what had obviously been a door.

"This looks like the only way out," he said as I raised my gun beside him.

Don nodded and pulled his radio as the three of us, without questioning it, set off at an almost dead run down the dark hallway.

_Dear God, what the hell happened to him?_


	7. Chapter 7: Unwelcome Silence

**Geesh, the world of Facebook is so strange! I stumbled upon it last night and it's a land both strange and wonderful… XD Anywho, I think this will be a split chapter just like its buddy, Chapter Six.**

**. . . . . . . . . . . .**

"Damn it!" I hissed, skidding to a halt as the 'tunnel', for the lack of a better word, we had been following split in three directions in front of us.

Danny flanked me to my right and Don flanked my left. The three of us exchanged a look. _We can't split up, but it's the only way to find him before they're gone._

With a certain amount of obvious reluctance, Don got on his radio again. His request this time was immediate back-up and a repeat of our previously found problem.

_Possible Abduction of an Officer._

I _hated_ those words. This wasn't just any officer, although I had respect for all those good people in uniform for my city, but this was _Mac Taylor_. My friend since Police Academy, a supporter, and a brother to me.

I felt Danny's steadying hand on my shoulder and my worried eyes shifted to look at him.

His face was grim with determination and his eyes gave away his true concerns on the matter at hand. "He'll be alright, Stell. He's a fighter. We'll find him."

I took in a steadying breath and nodded, looking back to the tunnels that split off from our main route. The darkness that yawned from them seemed to want to wrap tightly around me and I felt like I was going to suffocate on it as it wrapped its cold arms around my stomach.

Don rejoined us, chewing at his lip. "They'll be here in ten minutes," he said.

But I didn't like ten minutes. I wanted Mac found _now_. Losing him like this was _not_ an option for me.

**ooOOoo**

_A car? Water?_

My foggy mind couldn't decide and I closed my eyes again. The world around me was foggy at best anyways.

_Pause… Breathe, Fire, and Reload._

I found the process soothing, even though it was all in my head. It was really the only thing that I could make clear sense of at the moment.

It was a gun: a source of violence and very much a part of my life. Why was that important to me as of now?

Another quiet sigh as I shifted just slightly, and rather slowly, to try and get some idea on what the hell had happened to me and where I was.

Metal dug in to my wrists behind my back and when I did open my eyes, I confirmed it wasn't a car, and it certainly might've been water…

But not the kind that I had been thinking of. This was a slow stream and drip, possibly that of a sewer system or something of the sort.

I blinked a few times, still struggling to recall why I was here, restrained like I was. I eventually managed to focus my eyes on my feet.

_Dark… Dark, cold, and hard. _That was what I was on, but I couldn't muster up the idea of caring and I laid my head back down again. I finally took note of the ductape.

_Why the hell am I here?_ I asked myself again. Regardless, I still didn't have the answer. Shifting my shoulders, I realized something else that made me raise my head again with eyes a little more alert.

_Gun… Kevlar._ The words held answers. I remembered my gun. In my hands one second and then not in the next. My breathing was more uneven as my brows furrowed at this newly found information. _Stella… Stella, Danny, and Don._

Yes! That was it! I craned my neck to look over my shoulder, trying to see if I was indeed alone as my foggy senses had originally told me I was. The darkness in the room stretched and blended in to the corners, limiting my field of vision even further.

_What the hell is this, Andy?_ I wanted to know, but it wasn't like I could get my answers restrained on the damn floor.

My hands behind my back and my feet tied, I wasn't going to be getting anywhere any time soon.

I head a door open somewhere, but I still couldn't see where the hell he'd be coming at me from.

"Oh, good. You're up."

I wanted to snarl some smartass response, but I didn't get to. '_Up' my ass! When was the last time you checked directionality here? I'm on the floor, for Pete's sake!_

I glared up at him as he walked in to my field of vision so he was standing over me. The phone in his hands was strikingly familiar.

_Oh, you damn asshole._ He was lucky I wasn't at my best motor skills at the moment or else I'd have probably punched him in the face on the spot.

He carefully pulled the ductape from over my mouth and I flinched despite my intentions. But I soon was glaring at him again. "What the hell is this, Andy?"

"You know exactly what this is about, Mac," Andy shot back quickly, his tone rather harsh before he walked away.

I managed to get my arms under me enough to support my weight and give me a better view of the entire room.

"And this is how you plan to fix what happened?" I asked, looking over at him. I couldn't help but feel the smallest amount of sympathy for him. He'd seen his brother murdered and then had me and Jimmy lying about it all these years and it all seemed like quite a harsh joke now.

"What happened?" Andy snapped, spinning on his heels to face me. The quick motion took me a bit by surprise, "Don't make this like it's anything other than what it is! All you had to do was pull the trigger!"

I grimaced, and it wasn't because of the handcuffs. "Andy, we were kids," I said calmly, trying to reason with him.

"Just keep your mouth shut," Andy growled. "What's done is done, Mac Taylor. I'm finishing this, whether you enjoy it or not is entirely up to me."

I frowned and fumbled for words as I watched him. What exactly did he have planned? I almost didn't want to know.

"Andy, please, just listen to yourself for a minute."

"Oh, I've already done that!" Andy said, not turning towards me again as he stood over some kind of table. "Every time I try to recalculate it, I always come back to this!"

He turned back to me after a moment, and I didn't like the look in his eyes as he advanced towards me.

It was the sole idea of what kind of look was in his eyes that made me struggle to put distance between us even though he reached me a lot faster.

I found my back against the wall and I gritted my teeth as he put a grip around my neck.

I struggled to breathe, finding this situation oddly familiar. It didn't help me when he toyed with the knife he had in his other hand for a few moments before I felt the blade against my skin lightly.

_Damn it!_ I thought, struggling with him as much as I could manage with his grip nearly suffocating me.

He looked ready to start something when I heard my phone ring from on the table.

He recoiled away from me and his grip loosened quickly, leaving me to sink to my knees as I sucked in a good breath, or five, of air quickly. It took me a few moments before I was satisfied enough that I could breathe and could look up at him again.

"Oh look, it's dear Stella."

My gaze hardened into a glare as I watched him answer the phone.

"_You know, I thought you didn't like me that much. And you were right. Your boss is certainly a hard man to catch,"_ he said, grinning as he looked over at me.

I just glared at him, still focused more so on getting enough air so that I could confirm for my lungs and mind that I wasn't suffocating from the death grip he'd put around my neck.

I realized he'd put the phone on speaker when he set the phone down and I could hear Stella's answer. _"You stay the hell away from him, Bedford! You hurt him and I'll personally kick your sorry good-for-nothing ass!"_

I had to smile for a moment. She had such a temper at times that just hearing it from her lifted my spirits momentarily.

But Andy was smirking, and I didn't care for that expression at all. _"Yeah? Well, we'll just have to see about exactly what I chose to do to him, won't we?"_

He was walking towards me as he spoke and I wasn't prepared for his quick work with the knife as he dragged me back to my unsteady feat quickly, the blade of the knife ending up tightly against my throat.

My eyes locked with his and as much as I hated it, it was only his strong and unwavering hold that kept me on my feet. It was, after all, a little hard to keep my balance with what he'd done to me already.

I could hear Stella's voice in the background yelling some concoction of sentences that I couldn't quite make out as Andy examined where he had the blade of his knife at the moment and then scanned his gaze over the rest of my tensed form.

"Go on then," I muttered, still not letting myself break my gaze from him, "If you're going to do it, get it over with."

That probably wasn't the best thing I could've said, and it never will be. Andy shot a glare at me before he looked over his shoulder at the phone.

Silence. Unwelcomed silence.

My breathing was slightly ragged as I waited for him to make the move, closing my eyes tight because I had a feeling I knew what was next. The sharp edge of the blade dug in to my neck and at first, I got away with just gritting my teeth, but then he pulled the blade away I gasped in surprise as he dug the knife deep in to my side.

My eyes went wide and I couldn't keep myself from locking eyes with him as he held me on my feet and I struggled with feeling nothing and everything about that blade all at once…


	8. Chapter 8: Just Tonight

**Silly minded me needs to finish other stories and wants to work on another, but will force mind to finish other stories first. Must give answers! Lol… XD This is a split chapter as well, so that's my heads up for you guys.**

**. . . . . . . . . . . . .**

"Damn it, Andy!" I didn't know how I even managed to get the words to form in my mind, much less roll off my tongue as I squeezed my eyes shut, gritting my teeth.

He backed off, pulling the knife out of my side and letting me sink quickly to my knees, not even reacting to my pained gasp.

"That's for my brother," he said before he spun on his heels and left, leaving me to wonder what the hell was going on and what would happen.

I didn't know if he'd hung up on Stella or what had happened exactly. The only thing that was left for me to do was grit my teeth and lay there.

I could feel the blood soaking through my shirt, and I was rather aware of the pain and even more so, I was aware of the fact that my chances were in no way, shape, or form in my favor.

But I couldn't let that stop me. Stella was out there, somewhere, and my team was there with her. And they were working hard to find me, I knew they were.

And when they did, I had to be here. That's the only thought I needed to keep me fighting. I _had_ to fight this. For them.

**ooOOoo**

"_Adam, please tell me you managed to get something from that,"_ I said. My heart was racing in my chest and I was only just managing to keep myself standing straight up on my feet. I felt sick and I needed to know where Mac was.

I needed to find him _now!_

Adam rattled off an address that I almost unconsciously seared in to my thoughts before I spun on my heels and raced for my car across the street, hearing Don and Danny yelling after me.

But I didn't listen. I was on a mission, and that was the only thing I could think of. I started my car and pulled it out on the street.

I just needed a few minutes, but every second counted.

_I can't lose him… Not like this._

**ooOOoo**

I had literally dumped my car on the side of the road, and I could see exactly why this had been a prime spot for such a crime. I didn't know how the tunnels connected to here, but I didn't quite care at the moment.

My gun drawn, I continued forward through the dark building.

"MAC!" I yelled. Risky? Maybe. But I didn't care. I needed to find him. "MAC!"

The darkness seemed to press in around me on all sides, but I shook it off, walking forward. "MAC!" I yelled again, my eyes searching every centimeter of wall almost desperately.

I heard some kind of muffled response, and I was so startled that I nearly dropped my gun. I didn't question it though, and I broke in to a dead run down the hallway, skidding to a halt at the end in front of an old door.

It was locked, but I had a gun. Good enough. A bullet later and I kicked in the door.

My eyes went wide and I tossed my gun to the side when I saw him. "Mac!" I exclaimed, on my knees at his side within seconds. I pulled my phone with one hand and checked his pulse with the other.

"C'mon, Mac, stay with me," I murmured, moving my hand to lay it over where Drew had stabbed him. My worried eyes remained fixed on him even as I rattled off orders to the 9-1-1 operator that took my call and tried to keep Mac quiet and with me.

"_I need that ambulance NOW!"_ was the last thing I ordered in to my phone before I set it down beside me, both of my hands now over his injury. I looked over him, "Just stay with me, Mac. Stay with me."

**ooOOoo**

God only knew how long it was that I had been pacing. Up and down the hall at the hospital, chewing at my lip.

"Detective."

I stopped abruptly, turning to meet the calm gaze of a doctor. "How is he?" I asked, somehow managing to keep my voice steady.

The doctor nodded. "He's fine and stable now. It could still be a bit before he comes around but you can see him now," he said.

Those words took the weight of the world off my shoulders and a breath of relief quickly escaped my lungs as I nodded. "I'll take you up on that offer. Where is he?"

The doctor offered me a small smile. "Follow me," he said before he turned and guided me through the crisscrossing halls of the hospital.

I really hated hospitals. For several reasons. Me and hospitals just didn't mesh. Oil and water, really.

He got the door for me and I silently nodded my thanks before I stepped inside and closed the door behind myself.

At first, the only thing I could do was stand there, trying to keep my mind straight with the information I knew. And I finally took a seat, pulling out my phone and sending one text message to the rest of the team to let them know I was with Mac and that the doc said he'd be ok.

I then shut my phone off and put it safely in my pocket with a quiet sigh.

This was the part I really hated. Waiting. It made every comforting word the doctor could've possibly told me get shot out the window.

The only thing that made me feel certain was when I took one of his hands gently in one of mine. I then shifted to make myself as comfortable as possible in the very uncomfortable chair, prepared to spend whatever amount of time it took until he was awake.

I cast my gaze to the city outside the window, taking in the near-nightfall light of the sky. It was a light shade of purple, with traces of pink and orange scattered throughout as the night chased away the day.

Chased away a day of stressful memories. Oh, how I wished it was that simple.

If the night really could just chase away the day, then none of the events that had happened today and earlier would've ever been seared in my memory, but they were. And I had a feeling they were going to be there for a long time… as scars.

Even more so for Mac. I shook my head in an attempt to chase away such thoughts.

_Just get through tonight, _I thought as I laid my head somewhat back against the chair and somewhat against my shoulder at the same time, _Tomorrow can wait 'till tomorrow. Just tonight… Only gotta worry about tonight._


	9. Chapter 9: Train to Nowhere

**This took me a bit of time to think through to make anything actually remotely good out of it, so I hope this serves nicely for you guys! Enjoy! And this is another split chapter… just as a heads up. ;)**

ooOOoo

Truth was, I had no idea he'd silently been sitting there watching over me like a loyal pet watched over a sleeping child, because when I woke up, hints of the sun that was steadily rising above the city greeted me along with him smirking softly with blue eyes that were bright with amusement.

I stretched and pushed myself up into a more upright seated position. "How long have you been sitting there like a vulture?" I asked with a lightly teasing smirk.

He smiled softly. "Long enough. Can't be as long as you were sitting there like a vulture yourself," he replied, carefully rubbing at the back of his neck with his left hand. It eased my still insistent worry about him that he seemed okay and very much aware of how seriously he could've been injured by our mutual enemy, Andy.

"Oh, and you have a new message. I can only imagine what that would be about," he added with a nod to my phone on the bedside table as he eased back into the pillows with eyes fixed on the city outside the window.

I reached for my phone and fought to ignore the fact that he was clearly not satisfied with being marooned in the hospital when we had no idea where Drew had taken off to. The thought didn't appeal to me, and it was quite clear that it was under his skin annoying him about what happened.

The text had indeed been from the team, confirming my assumed thoughts that they'd be in shortly to see him.

"I don't think it's necessary for me to ask if you remember what happened." I knew I didn't.

The look in his eyes when he looked back over at me assured me I had assumed correctly. "We went to the address you had from him and all hell ensued," he summarized with a brief frown. "Lesson learned: Never try to fly solo," he added, almost rolling his eyes in what I took to be a move that was meant to tell me he didn't want the lecture on what _could've_ happened.

"Hey," I said, my voice firm as I moved to sit on the edge of the bed beside him, "I'm not here to lecture you over what happened." I laid my hand gently on his arm and offered him a small smile, "I'm just glad you're okay."

The smile I received in return was, in more ways than one, obviously forced. I nearly frowned in a reaction to that. This was troubling him more than I wanted to admit to myself, and I was struggling to come up with a way to ease this on him.

"We'll find him, Mac. It's what we do."

He nodded, turning his gaze to the city once more. But I saw through those turbulent blue eyes clearly. He was thinking trouble. And he didn't like it. He was thinking that he got lucky – and even I knew that – and most of all, he was troubled about whatever had been exchanged between him and Andy.

And that was a storm I couldn't help him ride out. From the look of a dark, raging ocean in eyes that were usually a bit of a brighter shade of blue, at least seemingly, I hated the idea that I'd have to leave him to fight this battle by himself.

ooOOoo

The team had come and gone by now and admittedly, I was up most likely against the doctor's wishes. But I was restless. I couldn't help but think about the dark predicament Andy had so plainly embraced and told me. It was clear to me that this wouldn't satisfy him.

I heard knuckles lightly knock against the doorframe and I looked over my shoulder to see Jimmy. We locked eyes for a few brief seconds before he walked over to join me at the window and we both looked out to the city.

"How you holding up?" he asked, looking over at me after a few minutes.

I sighed. "Mentally or physically?" I offered as a response, studying the city that I knew almost as well as the back of my hand by now. I just couldn't stop dwelling over what had happened and what I could almost feel was in the future.

Jimmy studied me for a few moments, and I ignored his concerned assessment of me, still more troubled with the thoughts raising questions in my head.

"You're thinking it isn't over," Jimmy finally said, looking back to the city.

I took a deep breath and nodded, ignoring how I was still sore from yesterday's events. I'd been through worse and what I felt was at hand definitely took priority in my mind. "I feel like a wreck, to be honest with you," I said. "What Andy said and did… It just doesn't seem like he'll be satisfied with this."

Jimmy nodded. "You gonna try and keep me out of it again?" he asked, looking over at me again.

I looked over at him and saw the determination in his eyes. I knew I couldn't keep him out of it no matter what I tried now. "No," I said finally. "I don't think I can do this without you."

Jimmy put a hand on my shoulder as we looked back out to the city again. "You won't have to. I don't know if I gave you the impression that I held you accountable for what happened back then… but I don't want to do that no more. Besides, what's done is done," he said.

I looked over at him, a little taken by surprise. He offered his other hand out to me.

"Think we can move on, Mac?"

I looked over him for a moment, in a rush remembering what we had done back then and all those times we'd hung out and how we'd lied to CPD about everything…

I took his hand and he gave me a firm handshake and what I can only describe as a reassuring squeeze of my hand.

"Now… About settling things with my little brother."

I nodded, finding my determination again with Jimmy's solid words and actions of encouragement. "We have to find him first."

Jimmy shrugged. "It's me and you. How hard could it be?"

ooOOoo

"This the place?" Jimmy asked as we took the last few steps down to the deserted platform.

"Track Six," I responded with a nod. "Train to nowhere."

Jimmy nodded. "He always did like puzzles."

I frowned slightly and nodded. "This one's a little too literal for my tastes," I said.

Jimmy nodded in agreement as we walked to the middle of the platform, looking out towards the dark and quiet tracks.

"The train still runs up through here, but not a lot of people even know it's still here. They expanded the IRT line and that's why this place is nothing much more than a ghost town," I explained, scanning my gaze over the platform we stood on.

Jimmy nodded and pulled his phone again, reading over the message both of us had received. "Track six, huh?" he asked, frowning as he looked down at his phone.

I nodded and looked over at him. "That mean something to you?"

Jimmy nodded. "It's like you said: Train to Nowhere. That's song six on an album I've heard a bit about."

I frowned slightly and nodded. "He liked puzzles," I said. "And clues are all he gave me for this. Clues and hints and a reason to struggle with not scaring the shit out of my team," I muttered, shaking my head. "All these years…"

Jimmy sighed and nodded in agreement. "He obviously put a lot of time in to this. Check this out," he said, pulling up something on his phone before he handed it to me.

"It's the lyrics to the song. Train to Nowhere."

It took me only a few moments to pick out the significance of the lyrics of the song and throw them out in to the larger-scaled picture of our problem.

I shook my head and handed Jimmy back his phone as I looked back to the dark tunnel in front of the platform. "I'm on this train until I die," I said, frowning as I saw clear truth in the lyrics. "One hell of a train, indeed."

Jimmy nodded as he put his phone away in the inside pocket of his jacket again. "I'm just really hoping that this goes a little better than I'm thinking it will," he said.

I nodded in agreement. Then footsteps interrupted us. We both looked over our shoulders to see Andy walking to join us.

"Mac Taylor," he said, walking up beside me. I managed to keep myself stationary, but remembering what had happened to me and how I'd been the last time he was this close spiked my uneasiness a little more than I'd like to admit.

"I heard this is about Will," Jimmy interjected before things could get too harsh between Andy and I. "Andy… Why didn't you tell me?"

"What for?" Andy asked, frowning. "Don't get soft on me, Jimmy. I can take care of myself."

"And going after me is the solution to your problems?" I asked. "Do you know what kind of trouble you've already gotten yourself into?"

Andy smirked. "What? Attempted Murder of a Crime Scene Investigator? Please, I could kill you right now and be done with it, couldn't I?"

"Andy… please," Jimmy interjected, stepping in front of me and grabbing Andy's wrist forcefully. "This isn't going to do anything! I lost Will, and I'm not ready to lose you too."

Andy jerked his wrist free from Jimmy's grasp and I stepped back with Jimmy as Andy glared at both of us. "Why the hell didn't you guys just fess up, huh? You had to lie to me all those times about what you were doing and look where the hell it got all of us! Will's _dead_!"

"And that means you have to be a killer?" I shot back with as much heat in my voice as I'd heard in his. "Andy, what happened was something out of our control! We were all just kids! What matters is our choices about what happened, not what happened. What's done is done, Andy… What sets us up now is what we chose to take from what's happened. Trying to change it isn't going to give anything to any of us."

Jimmy laid a hand on my shoulder in some kind of attempt to hold me back. I didn't even really notice, to be totally honest.

"He's right, Andy… We have to move on… Killing anyone won't bring Will back," he said.

Andy's eyes flashed with anger as he looked at the two of us. "Is this what I get? You two ganging up on me to try and change my thoughts about what happened?" he snapped. "I know it won't bring him back, but Will was _killed_! How the _hell_ am I supposed to _not_ hold you two responsible? You were _there_!"

Jimmy and I took another step back. I think it was mostly because of the hatred we were hearing. I myself couldn't quite grasp how we were trying to reason with him when he had so much conviction in his words.

"Andy, please," Jimmy tried again, holding his hands up in front of him, "We can't change what happened. And neither of us killed Will. _Bobby Toole_ killed Will."

Andy seemed to struggle with that. I could see he was thinking about drawing that handgun I knew he had in his pocket. But I felt just as stunned as Andy seemed to be. They did always say that truth was a hard pill to swallow, but somehow… this seemed to be a hard truth for all of us to try and take.

Andy shook his head. "What's done is done!" he snapped, repeating what both Jimmy and I had already said, "And for that reason… I think I'll have to finish what I started."

And he drew that gun, making both Jimmy and me take yet another step back, hands up.

"Don't do it, Andy!" I yelled, feeling like I could barely register what was going on. His hesitation was the same that I remembered.

He turned his attention to me, the aim of his gun following his eyes. "You know what… Maybe I ought to kill you first, _Detective Taylor_." He put emphasis on each syllable of 'Detective' and I found myself unable to think of a response.

The silence stretched off in to the yawning darkness of the tunnel, and I finally came to the conclusion…

_This_ was how this game was to end. Silence… Hesitation… and Gunshots.

Jimmy was tense beside me and I closed my eyes, already prepared for the action of the gun I could already hear echoing in my ears from time after time of hearing it…

Instead I heard the footsteps as he walked towards both of us. "On your damn knees. I'm not letting you get out of this _that_ easily."

And so Jimmy and I got down on our knees with Andy keeping the gun on us the whole time. Andy found the handcuffs I carried on my belt and tightened them around my wrists until I winced as the metal dug deep in to my skin and I caught a satisfied smirk flash with ease across his face out of the corner of my eyes before I looked over at Jimmy.

And I saw the same acceptance reflected in his eyes. So this is how this was going to end…

That was a hell of a long shot past what I had thought over all these years…

I had _never_ thought it would come to this… Never this…


End file.
